Wellington Philosophical Society. 438 
Johnson, M.L.C., W. T. L: Travers, F.L.S., T. Kirk, F.L.S., A. K. 
Newman, M.B., M.R.C.P., J. P. Maxwell, A.I.C.E ; Secretary and Trea- 
surer—R. B. Gore; Auditor—Arthur Baker. 
A vote of thanks was passed to the retiring office-bearers. 
Dr. Newman, the retiring President, then delivered the following 
ANNIVERSARY ADDRESS. 
When looking over the ‘ Transactions of the New Zealand Institute" searching for 
ideas for an address, I was struck by the fact that though geology, botany, zoology, meteor- 
ology, and chemistry had each been carefully and diligently studied by many persons, and 
though the volumes contained many valuable and able monographs on these and kindred 
subjects, yet that one subject had rarely been discussed, indeed, I may say, had been almost 
entirely neglected ; that subject is—medicine. With one or two trifling exceptions, there has 
been almost nothing done in the way of monographs on medical subjects in New Zealand. 
A few surgeons have described cases of poisoning from the bite of the katipo, and one or 
two have written scraps on the medicinal uses of three or four indigenous plants. 
After ruminating over the subject for a time, it occurred to me that I would take as 
the topic of my address ** New Zealand, from a Physician’s point of view.” 
This colony has been studied from most points of view, e.g.,—geologist, botanist, 
zoologist, politician, agriculturalist, and so forth, and it seemed to me that it would not 
perhaps be wasting the time of this Society if I were, for this once, to regard New Zea- 
land in its medical aspect; because, after all, though usually ignored, the subject of 
disease is one of more or less importance to all of us. 
I have often thought that a physician might write a very interesting work on the 
difference in the diseases suffered by civilized and savage races of man, and the physician 
in New Zealand has the opportunity of so doing, in addition to which he can notice the 
effect resulting from the diseases of one attacking members of the other race. 
People are apt to consider disease as some weird mysterious terrible thing, something 
like the ogres and hobgoblins and giants of our childhood; and before science had gone 
probing everywhere, this was not only the popular, it was the universal conception of the 
nature of diseases. Now, however, we are wiser, and we define disease as anything wrong 
in a part or the whole of the body. We obtain the clearest idea of disease when we regard 
the human body as an exceedingly complex machine. We all know that in any machinery, 
the more elaborate it is, the more likely it is to get out of order; and the more intricate 
and numerous the kinds of work to be performed by any machine, so much the more 
likely is it to get out of order. 
Savages like the ancient Maoris, led simple monotonous lives, and the duties which 
they had to perform were few and simple. With civilized people on the contrary the 
lives led by all are much more varied, the struggle for existence is keener and more varied, 
and hence they are liable to, and suffer from, a great number of diseases which never have 
existed among the savages. You can easily see that an untutored savage, who never held 
& pen in his hand, could not suffer from writer's cramp, or scrivener's palsy. Clearly a race 
of savages who painted their houses with red or yellow ochre because their land con- 
tained no lead, could never suffer from painter’s colic or lead palsy. 
Savages who lit their fires by the slow but harmless method of rubbing two sticks 
— could not have disease of their jaw-bones from the manufacture of matches. No 
Maori maiden ever committed slow suicide by tight lacing; or damaged her health by 
eating slate and drinking vinegar ; and no Maori dandy was ever poisoned by gaudy socks. 
No Maori child ever killed itself by sucking green toys (arsenic). ees 
